


Dream a Little Bit of Me

by seamonster (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I am so sorry, M/M, Sadstuck, idk why, it just sort of happened, there might be more who knows, tw for mention of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/seamonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're just too young to be in love, and Karkat thinks that John could do so much better than him. No, he doesn't just think it, he knows it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Bit of Me

**Author's Note:**

> i never write sadstuck i am so sorry. it just sort of furiously came scribbled out of me on break at work. which is also why it's so short. but i adore happy endings so i might add more to right the sad wrong of the situation.

It was late, like, way past midnight he was sure. The exact time eluded him, though. The only thing he was sure of was that John would be asleep. Because he always was. He'd be all sorts of snuggled up and happy under his ghost covered blankets, probably drooling while he dreamt of salamanders with faces like Nic Cage, or whatever the hell it was that kid dreamt of. Cozy and happy.  
  
And it made him feel bad everytime.  
  
Sneakers so worn out that the soles were hanging on for dear life tread down the quiet cookie cutter suburb street. Every house was dark, all the families tucked away for the night. They were completely oblivious to the street rat of a teenager ghosting past their houses. He kept his hands warm in the pockets of a zip-up that one could only guess used to be black. Only now it had faded to a dull, dark grey.  
It honestly didn't take him long to find the house he was looking for. It proclaimed it's independence from the rest of the street by being the only house with a bright green pogo ride right in the front yard. It was still the most ridiculous thing he'd ever seen, but, like always, it was the first place he stopped when he reached the yard.  
  
Dew sunk into grey jeans when he sat down upon it and he just stared at the house. At the top, left window in particular.  
  
This was the longest part of the night. Longer than the walk, he could do that with his eyes closed. This was where he fought with himself.  
A crushed, nearly empty packet of cigarettes was drawn out of his back pocket, along with a lighter. And while he slowly puffed, ash falling like snow onto the perfectly manicured lawn, he tried convincing himself to leave. He really shouldn't be there anyway, it was late, John was asleep, John's _dad_ was asleep, he hadn't been invited and just showing up was so rude. He didn't want to wake anybody up, he was _so_ not worth waking up for.  
  
On the other hand, he definitely didn't want to go back home. That was the last place he wanted to be. And John's dad had said he was welcome anytime....  
The cigarette butt was being tossed out into the neighbor's bushes by the time he'd made up his mind.  
And it was the same desicion every time.  
  
The tree with the tire swing was perfectly placed, so that if he climbed up it he was level with the window he'd been staring at.  
The curtains were drawn, so he couldn't see inside. But he rapped his knuckles against the glass, and waited.  
  
  
= > be the sleepy kid  
  
  
Of course he was sleepy, he'd just been asleep. But a tapping on his window roused him easily. It was kind of funny to John how he'd trained himself to wake up right away to that sound, sitting right up in bed. He crawled out of warm blankets to pull the curtains back. A tired smile lit his face.  
  
"Karkat, if you wanted to spend the night, you could have just asked earlier," was the first thing he said, helping the stray teen through his window and into the bedroom.  
Cold air still clung to him, even after the window was shut, along with the smell of grass and cigarette smoke.  
  
"Sorry it's late," was the first response. It was always the first thing Karkat would say, with that lost puppy expression on his freckly face.  
  
"I'm used to it by now," John smiled, even chuckled a little, pulling the other boy to sit on his bed while he dug for spare pj's in his dresser.  
  
"And it's not like I care, I love it when you come over."  
  
John sat down next to his friend, still grinning as he reached up to push a faded hood back. Bright orange hair flipped out crazier than his own raven strands, and pale fingers brushed a ginger lock off his cheek.  
  
"Karkat...," the teen flinched, John was no longer smiling.  
  
"I'm fine," Karkat mumbled, turning his face so John could no longer see what was quickly turning into a black eye.  
  
"That... did he-"  
  
"I'm _fine_ ," Karkat asserted, hand covering the one that lingered on his cheek, gently pulling it away.  
  
John frowned ever-so-slightly, but bit his lip to keep from saying anything. It honestly wasn't the first time he'd seen a bruise on the ginger teen, but it was definitely the first one he'd seen anywhere near his face. And it felt like something sour was tightening into a lead ball in his throat.  
  
While he sat momentarily dazed, Karkat stood to change into the pj bottoms. He left on his own shirt and hoodie though. John finally snapped out of it, and got up to pull his blankets back.  
  
"Want water or something?"  
  
Karkat shook his head no. So they both piled into the bed that was certainly not made for two. But John kind of liked it that way. how they could cuddle close, arms weaving around each other. Karkat tried to pull his hood back up, but John stopped him, carding fingers into his thick hair.  
  
This was bliss, in his opinion. Nights where Karkat didn't show up at his bedroom window were the worst. because he could do nothing but worry about him.  
  
"Hey John?" His voice was so abnormally soft, breath puffing warm against John's neck.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
It was quiet again for a little while, arms tightening around his back.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
  
=> be the timid teenager  
  
  
He's not timid, god dammit, he just feels bad about waking John up in the first place. The slender fingers in his hair rubbed gently against his scalp, and John scooted down just enough that their faces were level. That gap-toothed smile didn't look nearly as dorky when he didn't have those glasses on. Instead, it was actually fairly endearing.  
  
"Anytime," John finally responded. And they just stared at each other, blue eyes caught on green. The second John shifted, Karkat felt it. He was slowly bringing them a little closer together on the already cozy bed. And he had a sort of tell-tale, dreamy look on his face. It made Karkat's heart stutter a few beats, and it made his stomach turn a little wrong.  
  
John was alreayd leaning in, and soft lips pressed gently to the bruised skin around his eye. Prickles of pain responded to it being touched, but not enough to really hurt. What did hurt was his heart.  
  
"John...," Karkat sighed, pulling back ever-so slightly.  
  
"What?" came the innocent reply, insistant teen just following after, making like he wanted to press those soft lips to Karkat's own.  
  
"Please stop," it hurt to even say the words. Because he did not want John to stop. He wanted to grab the stupid kid by his collar, and kiss him for all he was worth. Which was a whole lot.  
But John wasn't on to let up so easily.  
  
"Why?" he breathed so softly, warm breath on Karkat's lips, making them tingle. His pale fingers slid down Karkat's neck, gently trying to pull them together. It was so sweet, why did he always have to be so sweet?  
  
"You know why," Karkat tilted his head down when John again made to kiss him, his forehead resting against the boy's button nose.  
  
"No," John just rolled with it, and pressed a warm, lingering kiss between green eyes. "I don't."  
  
"John, we've been over this-"  
  
"No," the teen interjected, tilting his head down, too, so their foreheads rested together.  
  
"Unless you're referring to the pile of junk you spew everytime we get close," the tips of their noses rubbed together.  
  
"Yes, I am referring to that pile of junk, John," he didn't want to, but Karkat pulled himself away from John much more forcefully, sitting up in the small bed.  
  
"I appreciate what you do for me, but this relationship should end at friendship," he pulled his hood over his head, so he didn't have to see John's face when he sat up, too.  
  
"But why? Karkat, it's super ridiculous to do that when I _know_ you like me, too."  
  
That was an understatement.  
  
"I waste too much of your time as it is, I couldn't live with myself to waste more."  
  
"Being with me would be a waste?" The hurt tone made Karkat's head snap around.  
  
"Being with _me_ would be a waste. John, being with you would be..." all of his dreams come true.  
  
The expression on John's face was a mix; hurt, worry, confusion, ...love.  
  
"A treasure you should give to someone much better than me," he finished in a soft tone, brows drawn together.  
  
John was quiet to that, so Karkat took the opportunity to lie back down, turning on his side away from the teen.  
  
"Let's just go to sleep."  
  
John didn't move for several minutes more, but even without seeing him Karkat knew he was being stared at. They'd had this argument countless times.  
After what felt like a quiet, tense, lifetime, the boy behind him shifted to lay down again. Predictably, he curled up right against Karkat's back, arms winding shyly around him.  
His words were muffled into the back of his hood so softly Karkat barely caught them.  
  
"I don't want someone else, I want you."

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank for reading, friends.


End file.
